


The Worst Wingman

by Spoiler



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoiler/pseuds/Spoiler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Mass Effect kink meme:  I want to see a Shep that knows she's sexy. I want her to dress up, hit the club (have a few drinks cause she really can't dance) or go on a date with her LI. Perhaps use her sexy self confidence to land a LI. I don't really care, I just want to see as seductive, sexy, Shep use her wily ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Afterlife

Afterlife had been Shepard’s idea. Garrus had mentioned calibrations one time too many and before he knew it, she was dragging him into a VIP booth (compliments of Aria) while ranting about how he needed to get laid. The Commander had even forbidden Garrus from wearing his armor. He had protested, but Shepard insisted that the cracked chestplate made him look more like a broken flowerpot than a lady-killer.

“ Change,” she had ordered and once Shepard broke out her commander voice there was no point in arguing.

She had had the decency to join him in wearing civvies, but he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Garrus may have felt exposed in his civilian clothes, but Shepard actually was. She had chosen one of those damn Asari dresses for the occasion—the clingy kind with the cutouts and bare waist. Garrus was surprised his visor hadn’t steamed up just from the sight. For turians baring midriff was like walking around without any pants on, but for the other council races it was no big deal. If it had been any other alien, Garrus wouldn’t have cared. Shepard though…her waist was something any blue-blooded turian could appreciate. Garrus knew this because he had spent half the night trying not to stare at the damn thing and the rest planning elaborate deaths for all of Afterlife’s less discreet, turian patrons. Shepard had attracted admirers of other species as well, but they seemed more fixated on her chest. Garrus didn’t understand the logic behind that—her chest was still half covered.

Shepard slumped back against the booth in a way that gave Garrus a direct line of sight to the strange divot in her abdomen. It made his mandibles go a little slack and Shepard giggled--which was a sound he hadn’t even known she was capable of.

“ What’s the matter, Vakarian?” she teased. “Never seen a belly button before?”

“… a what?”

Shepard smirked.

“ A belly button. Jesus! How am I supposed to get you laid if you don’t even know basic anatomy?”

“ I’m pretty sure those aren’t standard with turian females, Shepard.”

The commander rolled her eyes and made a sweeping gesture with her hand.

“ Do you see any turian females?” she asked. “This isn’t Palaven. You’re going to have to revaluate your standards.”

Garrus scanned the club with his visor. There were plenty of batarians and asari, but Shepard was right—all the turians were male.

“ Damn, “ he swore under his breath.

Shepard laughed and leaned across the table.

“ You know--,” she began in her most sultry voice.

Garrus swallowed.

“ \--if you’re an extra good boy—“

_ Spirits. _

“ \--I might just help you get that cute asari into bed.”

Garrus blinked.

“ She’s been eyeing you all night. “

_ Asari? _

Shepard nodded toward the bar and Garrus followed her gaze. Sure enough, there was a sky blue asari propped against the counter. She was nursing some sort of orange drink and when she noticed Garrus staring her cheeks turned dark plum. Shepard whacked him in the arm.

“ Christ, Vakarian! Go talk to the girl before her head explodes.”

Garrus shook his head.

“ She’s not really…my, uh, type.”

Shepard looked at him like he had just insulted her mother.

“ Why not?” she demanded.

Garrus wracked his brain for a reason Shepard might accept.

“ I just never saw the appeal with asari,” he replied. 

It wasn’t technically a lie.

“ Then what the hell am I supposed to set you up with? A pyjack?”

Garrus couldn’t help but laugh at the Commander’s exasperation.

“ Is it the boobs?” she asked—suddenly looking concerned.

“ Are those the lumpy, chest things?”

Shepard looked mildly offended, but just nodded.

“ Then no,” Garrus responded. “They’re weird, but no.”

For a second he thought she might punch him, but then she just sighed and changed the topic.

“ Since no one here lives up to your standards, I give up,” she declared with disappointment.

Garrus couldn’t tell if she was being dramatic or bitter, but her pensive frown was soon replaced by an evil grin.

“ That means it’s your turn to play wingman, Vakarian.”

He was fairly certain he’d rather let a varren use his fringe as a chew toy.

Shepard’s eyes darted around.

“ See any candidates?” she whispered conspiratorially.

“ No.”

She made a pouty face that was both adorable and unnerving. Human faces were much too flexible.

“ Gaaarrruuus,” she whined.

The large turian shook his head.

“ Why do you even want my help? Just use your normal strategy.”

Shepard frowned.

“ First of all, introducing myself isn’t a strategy. Second, if it was it would be the best strategy ever. And third, it only works on humans. That’s why I need your help.”

Garrus was confused.

“ What exactly is your…target audience tonight, Shepard?” he asked reticently. “And don’t say krogan because that’s not a mental image I can deal with right now.”

The commander laughed.

“ Seriously,” he reiterated. “I need at least ten more shots before I can handle that.”

Shepard just smiled and punched a new drink order into her omni-tool. Garrus’ stomach sank.

“ Relax, Vakarian,” she said grinning wickedly. “It’s just a refill. Besides, I already went through my krogan phase. I want to try something new.”

“ And that would be?”

Shepard paused to carefully consider the question. 

“Well, asari is out--I’ve already tried that. Salarians are…more of a challenge than I’m looking for, and the batarians are still mad about the Alpha Relay.”

“So that leaves what? Drell or hanar?,” Garrus snorted derisively. 

Shepard made a face.

“I can never get past second base with the drell. The munchies always kick in first.”

“I am not fixing you up with a  _ hanar _ ,” Garrus said forcefully.

The Commander just raised an eyebrow.

“Turians it is,” she declared non-chalantly.

Garrus nearly choked on his drink.

“ I don’t suppose you see any handsome, mysterious, turian bad boys around?”

Garrus was fairly certain faking his own death should at least qualify him for mysterious. Handsome he was less sure about.

“Gavorn?” he suggested. 

The captain was moderately less annoying than most of Omega’s filth, and working for Aria probably placed him firmly in the bad boy category—not that Garrus really knew what that was. Shepard’s answer was an emphatic no.

“Maybe you should try calibrating your gaydar, Vakarian.” 

He raised a brow plate in surprise.  _ Oh. _

“ I’m starting to wonder if you’re the right man for this op,” she teased. 

Garrus sighed.

“ Look, Shepard,” he explained, “turians aren’t like humans. We prefer the direct approach. Just find a male and ask.” 

Shepard rolled her eyes—a human motion Garrus still wasn’t used to.

“Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the thrill of the chase,” she said pausing to finish of her glass of brandy.

“ Sure  _ I  _ do,” he replied. “But I already told you—I’m a bad turian.” 

That made her giggle again, though Garrus noted her voice seemed to be several decibels lower this time. Shepard stood up and stretched languidly in a way that made her companion’s plates feel like shifting.

“Tonight’s a bust,” she yawned. “Know where I can get an escort back to the ship?” 

Garrus stood up and followed her out.

“Didn’t think you’d give up so easy,” he teased. 

Shepard grinned.

“Yeah well, I have a stupidly expensive vibrator waiting in my cabin and I doubt any of the locals can compete with tiny mass effect fields.” 

Garrus hid his smile.

“There’s the Shepard I know,” he said dryly, but it was a mental image worth filing away for later.

When they reached the Normandy’s elevator, Shepard selected the deck for her cabin. Garrus reached for the console, but the Commander swatted his hand away.

“ You’re off duty,” she reminded him, placing her hands on her hips. “That means no more work for the night.” 

Shepard used her too numerous fingers to put air quotes around the word work. Garrus was too busy trying not to stare at her waist to be offended.

“ So you’re kidnapping me?” he asked, looking very determinedly at her face. 

Shepard shrugged.

“ You say kidnap. I say help.”

“ I thought you had an appointment to keep,” Garrus teased nervously.

“ Who says I don’t.”

The turian’s brain skidded to a halt. He glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of just how little space lay between them.

“ Didn’t think humans generally wanted an audience for…that kind of thing.” 

Garrus tried to keep a joking tone to his voice, but it came out a bit strangled. He thanked the Spirits humans had trouble reading turians’ flanging voices.

For a moment Shepard didn’t respond. She just looked at him as if she were trying to make up her mind about something. Finally, she took the half step needed to close the distance between their bodies.

“ They don’t,” she conceded, “but I’m a bad human.”

The doors opened and realization dawned.

“ This was a setup,” Garrus stated blankly. 

Shepard smirked.

“ I can see why C-Sec didn’t want to let you go.” She stepped out of the elevator and motioned toward her cabin with a tilt of her head. “You coming or not?”

Garrus scrambled out behind her.

 

 


	2. Afterhours

Despite the rather insistent strain against his lower plates, Garrus was beginning to think that this wasn’t such a great idea. As Shepard had pointed out in the bar, he knew nothing about human anatomy. She had a hole in her abdomen and bumps on her chest. Who knew what other strange alien body parts hid under her clothes? What if they weren’t compatible? What if  _ he  _ was too weird for  _ her _ ? Shepard placed a hand against the scarred side of his face.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll give you a tutorial.” 

As she took his hand and lead him toward the bed, Garrus found himself wondering if she could read minds.

She pushed him into a sitting position on the mattress’ edge and Garrus nervously complied—scooting forward a bit so his spurs wouldn’t knock against the bedframe. Shepard interlocked their fingers as best she could and brought both sets of hands to her mouth.

“First thing you should know,” she said, running her lips over the soft pads of his talons. “Humans use their mouths for everything.”

She leaned in so that their foreheads were touching. It was a very turian gesture—something that Garrus could easily recognize as a sign of affection. Her next move seemed to be in the same vein, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Shepard ran her soft, human mouth along the curves of his faceplate—over the slight bridge of his nose, across his hollow cheeks, down the sharp lines of his good mandible. Garrus had seen things like this in the occasional romance vid, but he had never expected it to feel so good.

Shepard worked her way down the side of his neck steadying herself with both hands against his cowl. The plateless skin there was sensitive and as Shepard’s tongue darted across it, Garrus gave up the fight against his straining lower plates. He bit back a groan as his cock slipped from its sheath. Encouraged by the sound Shepard shifted into his lap. The new position allowed her better access to the spot near his shoulder she was so mercilessly teasing. The position also drew attention to Garrus’ heightened arousal.

“Enjoying yourself yet?” she murmured in to his neck. Shepard rocked experimentally against his erection and laughed when his only response was a flanging moan. “It certainly sounds like your enjoying yourself.”

She ground against him again—drawing another desperate sound.

“ Goddamn Vakarian,” she whispered, leaning into the space where an ear would be if he weren’t turian. “You have no idea how hot your voice gets me.”

Garrus made a mental note.

“ Sometimes I think I could cum just listening to you.”

Garrus underlined the mental note.

 


	3. Afterhours (Continued)

Interspecies sex was weird. It even sounded different. The usual dull scrape of plates against plates replaced by the wet slap of soft, human skin. The insides of Shepard’s thighs were already turning an angry shade of red as he thrust between them, but she didn’t seem to mind.

_ Spirits, that was going to chafe in the morning. _

Garrus reluctantly unwrapped her legs from his torso and spread them completely apart, the sides of her knees digging into the mattress. He moved his palms into position against the lower section of her thighs, carefully avoiding the raw patches of skin, and used his upper body strength to keep her pinned. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, but less friction meant less pain tomorrow.

Garrus pushed back inside her, drawing a short moan from both of them. He slid in easily this time, and the new position allowed him to go deeper.

“ It feels like I’m doing a split,” Shepard declared once they had both adjusted. “Don’t know how long I can keep this one up.”

“ I’ll be quick,” he promised.

S he gave him a look.

“— and then I’ll help you finish,” he clarified, a bit offended that she would assume otherwise. He hit a particularly nice spot and Shepard’s eyes fluttered shut.

“ Such a gentleman,” she gasped.

True to his word, Garrus came a few ragged thrusts later—the orgasm ripping through him like a bullet through a mech. He pulled out, spilling onto her stomach and down her sides. Garrus managed a self-satisfied flare of his mandibles at the sight before collapsing face first next to Shepard. He only narrowly missed faceplanting into her chin.

_ Spirits. _

Shepard stretched out her legs, giving the pleasantly sore muscles running along her inner thigh a much needed rest.

“You’re not done,” she reminded Garrus, propping herself up on an elbow.

“ J ust catching my breath,” he mumbled into the mattress.

Shepard laughed and pushed him onto his side. The hair around her face was a sweat-drenched mess and he had never seen her cheeks so pink. He hoped those were indicators she was enjoying herself.

Curiously, she skated a hand across her sticky abdomen and examined it closely. Garrus wondered if she had just encountered a new, species difference, and was about to ask when she popped one of the coated fingers into her mouth and sucked it clean.

Garrus froze as Shepard tilted her head in consideration.

“That’s actually not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

She sounded pleased.

“That’s…,” Garrus trailed off, his brain unable to process what it had just witnessed. He cleared his throat.

_ Definitely a weird, alien thing...maybe one he could get used to. _

He shook the thought from his head and changed tactic.

“ Y ou mentioned something about tiny, mass effect fields?”

Shepard grinned.

The vibrator had gotten Shepard maddeningly close before she had declared it cheating and thrown the blue hunk of plastic haphazardly behind her. It had bounced off the fish tank and scattered what little life had managed to survive in that cursed place.

“Make me cum,” she ordered, her eyes alight with frustrated desire.

Garrus happily obliged, dipping his head between her legs before lightly dragging his tongue across her. Shepard was having none of that. With one hand roughly gripping his fringe, she ground against his mouth plates so hard he was surprised they didn’t crack.

“ Shepard,” he growled, pinning both her hands to the bed without fully pulling away. “You can order me around all you want tomorrow. Right now you could try letting someone else be in control for a change.”

Shepard didn’t respond but the death grip of her thighs against his mandibles loosened. It was a promising sign.

“Where are my gloves?” he asked, suddenly struck with an idea. 

Shepard sighed.

“Gloves, Vakarian? You’re asking me about gloves right now?”

“It’s relevant,” he assured her, sitting back to scan the room. “It’s too dark in here. I can’t find them.”

Shepard sat up and handed him his visor.

“You know I actually kind of thought you’d leave that on during sex,” she confessed. 

Garrus raised a brow plate.

“Sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing about me Commander.”

It was supposed to be light hearted ribbing, but Shepard shivered. He decided to go with it.

Garrus strapped the visor back on. One glove was behind Shepard. It had been pushed half way under the bed. He reached for it, choosing not to go around her. One hand cradled the small of her back while the other searched blindly for the glove. His talons closed around supple leather and he sat up to pull the glove on.

Shepard looked confused.

“I keep my talons pretty short for a turian,” he explained, “but by human standards they’re still pretty extreme. Thought a protective buffer might help you relax.”

He could swear she shivered again.

“You really do like this visor, don’t you?”

She laughed.

“Until tonight I’d never seen you without it. It’s like a part of your face.” 

She reached a hand up to trace it.

“How do you imagine my face?” he asked hesitantly.

Shepard smiled.

“ Scarred,” she admitted.

“ Should have realized that’d be your type.”

She punched him lightly in the arm…well, lightly for Shepard.

“ Isn’t it time you got back to work?”

Garrus complied.

Between his tongue and his talons, it wasn’t long before Shepard was back to vibrator levels of arousal. He could feel how close she was, her body alternating between tense rigidity and uncontrolled bucking.

“ Garrus,” she managed between heavy breaths. “I n—need. I \--” 

Her instructions were cut off by a stream of moaned expletives. She raised a finger and crooked it in a come hither motion. “Like that.”

He dutifully obliged.

Shepard threw her head back, eyes clamped shut.

“ Shit,” she gasped. “Fuck.”

Her hips were raised completely off the bed now, and Garrus’ hand was beginning to hurt.

A strange, keening sound escaped Shepard’s throat and she clenched around him. There was a small gush of fluid, which startled him until he remembered he was with an alien. Once the most intense of the aftershocks had passed, Shepard lowered her hips and relaxed back into the mattress. Garrus looked down at his newly freed hand, and mentally added new gloves to the list of supplies he’d need from the Citadel. He removed the ruined article of clothing and threw it next to his pants. Shepard was smiling, but her eyes were still closed.

“ I like the visor,” she admitted. “I really like the visor.”

 


	4. Morning After

He awoke to someone rummaging angrily through the nightstand.

“ Christ, where did I put it?”

Garrus sat up.

“ Shepard,” he groaned. “What are you doing?”

She made a small sound of triumph and held up a jar.

“ What is that?”

“ It’s for the chafing,” she explained, eagerly unscrewing the lid.

_ Chafing? _

Garrus’ tired brain finally caught up to the present. He looked down at Shepard’s thighs, and unleashed a string of expletives that could make any translator glitch. He grabbed the open jar from her hand, and began heaping it onto her skin.

“ Fuck that’s cold,” Shepard protested. 

Garrus ignored her.

“ You’re supposed to rub it in,” she pointed out.

Garrus massaged the ointment into the delicate, red skin of her inner thighs.

She bit her lip and Garrus eased up--afraid he was hurting her.

“ God that feels good.”

He worked his palms up her thigh, closer to her center.

Shepard met his eyes, and Garrus pulled his hands away.

“ Don’t want to be late for my shift,” he said pointedly.

Shepard rolled her eyes and began applying the cream herself. She was being purposefully seductive as she ran her fingers along her thighs, but Garrus wouldn’t be swayed.

“ You planned this,” he said trying to steer the morning somewhere less arousing. “I get that. What I don’t understand is why.”

Shepard’s hands stilled.

“ You really want to talk about this now?” she asked.

Garrus nodded. She wiped her hands on the sheets and set the jar down.

“ Well, either I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for ages, or I just dig the new scars. Take your pick.”

Garrus studied her carefully.

“ I’d rather you just told me.”

She grimaced.

“ I was afraid you’d say that.”

They were both silent for a moment and Shepard looked more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

“ I don’t know,” she practically whispered. “I just…when you took off your helmet on Omega it seemed like the most obvious thing in the galaxy.”

“ That I was Archangel?”

“ That you were the one.”

Garrus paused.

“ The one?” he asked.

Shepard nodded and then realized he didn’t understand.

“ The—damn it, Vakarian! The one I’m supposed to be with. What do turians call it?”

“… their mate. I guess.”

Shepard shook her head.

“ Let’s not bring that into this,” she said hastily. “I’m not talking registering for appliances.”

“ What are you ‘talking’?” Garrus asked. “Help me out here Shepard. “

She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“ I have feelings for you,” she began carefully, “and last night was fun. I want to keep doing this.”

“ Oh,” Garrus’ mandibles flared in pleasant surprise. “Yeah. We should…we should do that.”

Shepard smiled.

“ You always know just what to say to a girl.”

They were both late for their shifts.

  
  
  


 


End file.
